Seeds
by MuseDePandora
Summary: It was never supposed to be like this. (Warning: Heavy STID spoilers)


**Title: Seeds**

by MuseDePandora

**Disclaimer: **Star Trek belongs to various persons and corporations that are not me or associated with me. This piece of fanfiction is written with the admiration and respect for the original work. I claim no ownership of Star Trek's creations. No profit is made from this material, now or in the future.

**Rating:** G

**Trigger Warning:** mention of suicide

**Characters:** Khan, Marla McGivers, Admiral Marcus, Kirk, Spock

**Pairings:** Khan/Marla, Kirk/Spock

Special Thanks to both Armity and FandomLucky for beta-reading the piece.

* * *

It was never supposed to be like this.

* * *

The war had been a misunderstanding.

There had been so much suffering. So much sickness. So much sheer _stupidity_. Humanity was quantity over quality and something had to be done. He knew history would make him a monster. He knew he had to do it anyway. For the children. For their future. A better future, if they would only _see_.

They had no vision.

* * *

The first thing he saw when he awoke was an old man in a new uniform.

* * *

Admiral Marcus thought he was smarter than Khan; that he could control him. Khan let him think that for months. Because it amused him. Because it helped him. Because he had been asleep for 300 years and even he needed the time to catch up.

But mostly he did it because the fool had his crew, his family. And no matter how many Top Secret archives Khan cracked open, he couldn't _find_ them.

The admiral wanted weapons. Khan gave him weapons.

The admiral wanted a war. Khan would give him a war.

The last war was started by men and women like Admiral Marcus. They took the best and brightest, using them to make the earth bleed. They blamed their problems on the Other, agitated at borders, so willing to turn on their own with every breath and, underneath it all, so afraid.

Humanity never changes, especially when it should.

Khan knew that better than anyone.

* * *

There had been a woman who surprised him, though.

* * *

Lieutenant Marla McGivers was assigned to be his companion because she was a historian that specialized in his era. She spoke his language, was eager to hear his answers, and was willing to _think_. Marla was an uncut diamond and when he applied pressure from just the right angles, she would shine. She wasn't one of his people, but she could have been.

She was the one who taught him how to hack into Starfleet Archives. She was the one who found his crew. She was the one who suggested the missiles.

He never meant to fall in love with her. He didn't even notice it happening until it was done.

Admiral Marcus noticed.

* * *

He actually begged for their lives, his crew including Marla.

* * *

Khan should have trusted her. He should have known how very strong she was. She jumped out of her bedroom window, forty stories up, when she realized they were coming for her. If they had only focused on Marla, they never would have found his crew. She would have saved them.

But he didn't know that then. He'd only find that out later.

It was pure calculation, telling them about the missiles. He was so sure they had her and she'd break. This way she wouldn't be tortured or killed. They would lock her away, like they did with the rest of his crew, but given time he would come up with a new plan. He would find them all again.

In the meantime, he would do as he was told.

The Admiral didn't believe that. It was both the stupidest and the smartest thing he could have done.

* * *

The missiles were reported detonated; officially logged as "live testing".

Lieutenant McGiver's record was archived as deceased: suicide.

They didn't even tell him; they let him find it in the computers himself.

* * *

Everything went dark after that. His vision. His brain. He doesn't remember a thing of those six days. Sometimes, he wonders how many people he killed. He hopes all of them.

* * *

One of the advantages of his captivity and forced labor is that it put him in the perfect position to acquire knowledge, his greatest weapon. When they woke him, they had expected him to be in awe and marvel at their technology and understanding. He was disappointed. Three hundred years head-start and he was able to _improve_ their most advanced technology within a year. Pathetic.

It was almost too easy. The archive in London. Almost too predictable. The headquarters in San Francisco.

But, oh, the sound was satisfying. The explosions. The twisting metal. The _screams_.

It had never been like this before. Death had always been a means to an end. Now, it was everything. It was in his breath, his bones. He imagined he could feel it under his fingernails and between his teeth. He wanted to tear into the world and spit it out.

He sat on Qo'noS and tried to decide if he was already dead.

This could be hell.

* * *

But Admiral Marcus was still alive . . . and so was his crew.

* * *

Captain Kirk was, in most aspects, underwhelming for a legend. He was not like Admiral Marcus; he had honor. But he was young, idealistic, uncontrolled. Easily manipulated. Yet, there was something about him that Khan had to respect. He had begged for his crew. Khan could understand that.

That was why he did him the service of returning him to his ship, to die with them. The Enterprise and her crew were always going to be casualties. Kirk was an honorable man with a vendetta. Khan had personal experience with those. He never would have let Khan and his crew go. He would have returned him and his people to Starfleet. The same people who held his family hostage, who locked him up and used him, who killed Marla.

Khan killed Admiral Marcus and _reveled_ in it. But the institution that made him remained and he wasn't going back to it.

Kirk had to die.

* * *

The Vulcan was an oversight.

* * *

He had never met a Vulcan before, only read about them. All the data described them as an intellectually and physically formidable race, handicapped by their pacifism, pride, and complete lack of creativity. They were driven to near extinction by their inability to even imagine a dirty fight. Of course, they were also described as near emotionless. For a moment, when they were each attempting to choke the life and beat the blood out of each other, Khan had an instant of clarity. He thought, this must be what he had looked like in those six days, with his crew torn from him and his unexpected love dead. It wasn't enough to let Commander Spock win, but it did help him understand why he made people so very afraid.

He was _almost_ pleased when he learned his blood had saved Kirk. They weren't so different from each other, in the end.

The captain had promised him a trial.

But Starfleet put him in a box, beside his crew in a basement, in an archive to be forgotten. Perhaps to sleep another three hundred years. After all, there will always be another war and they might be useful again.

* * *

Humanity never changes, especially when it should.


End file.
